Why Not Give It Up?
by Villain
Summary: Stan and Kenny minus Kyle and Cartman equals improvisation that requires zero clothing. Stenny. Lemon, m/m


A/N: I'm taking a break from storied centering around Kyle getting it up the butt... I can't even pretend that I have a plot to hold this thing together... But oh well. This story's foundation is built upon lemons!

**Why Not Give it Up?**

Stan and Kenny sat on the curb; each adopting identical bored positions with chins resting in their hands.

"You know, this reflects badly on both of us, Stan."

The boy lazily rolled his eyes over to the blonde and yawned. "How so?"

"Well, with Kyle and Cartman gone it's like we can't have fun. Stan," he said seriously, "we are extremely boring."

Stan's eyebrow made a slow migration upwards. "Maybe it's just that you're boring."

He laughed outright, doubling over and slapping Stan on the back, "Oh, Stanley. Did you forget who I am? I'm Kenny McCormick." He proclaimed this matter-of-factly, pointing at himself with a righteous thumb. To his chagrin, Stan's arched eyebrow twitched. "Don't give me your eyebrow judgment. I'm not boring on my own. It's just that without the Jew and Fatass-"

Ignoring the blonde, Stan stood up and started walking down the empty street. He heard Kenny scramble up and follow, finally slouching up next to him as Stan stopped in front of the candy store.

"You know, Kenny, you might be right," said Stan.

"So your solution is what, candy? Dude, I don't have money for that! And last time I checked I'm not four, so..."

The eyebrow was up full-force as Stan looked sidelong at his friend. "No, dumbass. Clyde works here and I know he'll have some weed."

"I thought you couldn't because of football."

"Well, since it's the off-season they don't do spot checks any more," he said, pushing into the store. "Anyway, didn't you say last week that Clyde owes you for something?"

Kenny thought for a second then grinned. "Yeah!"

...

There was nothing like smoking a bowl in an empty, warm house, watching Terrance and Phillip on a flat-screen TV. Kenny sighed contentedly. He happily took the joint from Stan. "Why, thank you Stanley."

"Dude," Stan groaned, "Don't call me that. My mom calls me that."

"Oh," said Kenny, fronting a concerned expression, "I'm so sorry. Was it turning you on too much?" He burst into peals of laughter as Stan growled at him, chucking a pillow at his face. Cleanly avoiding it, joint still safely in his hand, Kenny clucked at the other boy, who was looking very grumpy. "Naughty little Stanley!"

Stan scowled, eyes already looking hazy and reddened. "Whatever, Kenneth."

That did it. Kenny cracked up. "Go ahead and call me that! Might get me a little more respect around here."

His plans foiled, Stan's scowl only deepened. "If you're just gonna yap, then give it back!"

He scrabbled sluggishly for the joint, which Kenny nimbly held away. The blonde didn't even care that it was burning down. Teasing Stan was fun; something he didn't know could evolve while alone with his friend. Their friendship seemed to revolve around Kyle and Cartman. Stan playing knight to Kyle's Jewish princess and Kenny providing support via laughter at whoever threw the next insult. He didn't even know if they'd ever been alone together. Kyle, at the very least, was always there.

"You look different," he said suddenly. Stan stared at him, poised half over him on the couch, hand still after the joint.

"What?"

"You look a lot smaller," Kenny continued, finally taking a drag before placing it between Stan's lips. The other boy leaned back, inhaling deeply and holding it.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," he croaked, taking an extra drag as Kenny peered at him.

"Without your other half," he finished, grinning as Stan rolled his eyes with understanding.

Handing the joint back, Stan stretched, "Yeah, well you look bigger without the fatass around making everyone look like... like..." He floundered, waving his hand dismissively, "smaller people."

Kenny nodded gravely, laughter twinkling in his eyes. "Yes, that is very wise." Weed didn't phase him so much, definitely not as much as the other boy. "You're so perceptive, Stanley."

Before he could retort, Stan yelped as the joint scorched his fingers, burned down to almost nothing. He dropped it in a beer bottle. That was that.

"Well, now back to being boring," he said sadly.

"Maybe for you, Mister White Bread America, but not for me." He unabashedly itched at his crotch, laughing slightly. "Dude, pot makes me horny." Stan's face sent him into stitches, gasping for breath as the football player looked dumbly at him, cheeks flushed. "Calm down, man. I'm not gonna jump you." Still smirking, he reached into the bag he carried the weed in and extracted two magazines. "Take your pick," he said, brandishing them with a flourish.

Stan gaped at him.

"Uh... Kenny. Dude, one of those... uh, that's a guy." His face was marching into deeper and deeper red.

"I brought both kinds," Kenny said matter-of-factly, "I didn't know which you'd prefer, and I never really know what I'm in the mood for after a bowl-"

"Kenny. That's a dude. His dude-junk is all over everything."

For a full minute Kenny stared at Stan, watching the football player's face crumble before he whipped the magazine to a centerfold and declared, "And here's his dude-junk on another dude's dude-junk!" Stan squawked like a dying turkey and flailed backwards, to Kenny's utmost enjoyment. "Stan, look, it's RIGHT THERE."

"Noooo!" Stan covered his face, curling up as Kenny smeared the magazine all over his head.

"And now his dude-junk is on your face!"

"Kenny, that's sick!"

"What, the fact that there's a naked man or the fact that you just called it 'dude-junk'? Because seriously Stan, that's the lamest thing-"

Stan took one hand and slapped it sloppily over Kenny's mouth. "Kenny," he said wearily, "Shut up for a minute." He took a deep breath. "Ok, why did you bring that shit? It's not very funny."

Kenny looked at him with a deadly serious expression. "It's the dude-junk, isn't it?" He burst out laughing, almost screeching as Stan turned even redder.

"I was in shock! Kenny, shut the fuck up!" Grabbing a pillow, Stan proceeded to beat Kenny over the head with in until they both lay panting, the magazine sitting between them.

"Look, Stan," said Kenny, turning over slightly to face the other boy, "You need to mix it up a little. You're so mainstream it makes me break out in hives to be around you." He dramatically held out his blemish-free arm.

"So you want me to mix it up with this stuff?" Motioning to the magazine, Stan ran his hand through his hair.

Looking at the black-haired boy in silence for a beat, Kenny scooted closer, lifting the magazine and thumbing through it. "You might be surprised," he said, shrugging. Then he went very still and quiet, almost holding his breath as he pondered his next question. "You've kissed Kyle, right?"

"You've kissed Butters." He said it too coolly, not looking at Kenny.

"I've kissed a lot of people," Kenny parried, allowing the diversion. "It's weird, but guys and girls both feel good." He shrugged. "No harm done."

Stan cleared his throat. "Who feels better?"

Leaning back, Kenny stretched his arms over his head, lacing his fingers together. He stayed that way as he thought. "It's really person by person. Like what's behind it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I kiss Bebe it's really hot and my dick feels it." He chuckled, "Mainly cuz I know that when we kiss I'm most likely getting some." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stan smirk. " But when I kiss someone like Butters it feels just as good. My head gets fuzzy and I feel warm. He's so... earnest about it. And when I kiss someone like Craig-"

"No fucking way!" Stan was sitting up now, closer to Kenny than before.

He peeked sidelong at his friend, "Oh yeah. When I kiss someone like him I feel lightheaded, dizzy almost." His gaze turned glassy. "He just wants to dominate, consume." Blinking, he grinned at Stan.

"So you've kissed more guys than girls?"

Kenny snorted, "Girls are choosier."

"Yeah, right," Stan agreed, laughing lightly. He was watching Kenny. When the blonde was describing the kisses his expression changed, like he was reliving those sensations. He chose his next words carefully, brain still a little foggy. "What do you think you feel like to the people who kiss you?"

Light blue eyes were hooded as they gazed into Stan's eyes. "I guess you'd have to ask them. Or..." He stopped.

Stan leaned in. "Or?" he asked weakly.

Shaking his head, Kenny put his face in his hands, running them through his hair. "Nevermind."

Touching the blonde's shoulder, Stan pulled him back around. "Or what?"

Kenny poked Stan in the center of his chest. "Or you could find out."

They stared at each other. The only movement was the returning wave of red over Stan's face. Kenny's own cheeks were red, but certainly not from embarrassment. That mischievous twinkle was back. Stan cowered beneath it.

"Did you hear me, Stan?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Well, what do you think, Mainstream?"

Kenny was much closer than before, as if every word had drawn their faces nearer. Stan could feel Kenny's breath on his face. He swallowed.

"Stanley-"

He grabbed Kenny's face and crushed his lips onto his friend's, bringing his body flush against the other boy. Stan felt every line of Kenny's body as it reacted, hands coming to bury themselves in his hair, leg moving alongside his own.

Kenny drew back slightly, eyelashes fluttering as he dashed his tongue along Stan's lips, smirking as the other boy gasped suddenly. Not hesitating, he dipped his tongue into Stan's open mouth, toying with him, teeth grazing tongue, lips, hands moving from hair to shoulder, from shoulder to Stan's own hands. He pulled them down, placing one on his crotch and the other next to their working mouths, tongue swinging out to wrap around the digit in a flash of heat before pushing back into Stan's mouth.

The heat under his brow melted over him, and Stan was sure he was losing himself. Kenny's tongue was working against his own, pulling it into Kenny's treacherous mouth, plush lips wrapping around it and sucking gently.

He was going to die. It didn't matter that he could feel Kenny's dick through his pants, or that his hand was currently on Kenny's dick to begin with. It didn't matter that he was moaning, or that Kenny was massaging his erection, somehow pushing down his sweat pants and maneuvering his way inside. Biting down hard on Kenny's lip with a ragged growl, he arched into Kenny's hand, swept up in the electric feeling of skin on his cock.

"Do it," he whispered, clawing at Kenny's pants, releasing a twin erection. Suddenly he shoved Kenny, roughly gripping his hips and pulling his lower body up so that their cocks brushed. Hair splayed against the couch in a blonde halo, Kenny moaned, moving so that his dick rubbed against Stan's, which was hardening more and more each second.

Feeling dizzy, Stan came down over Kenny, eyes heavy with lust as he devoured Kenny's mouth, aware of wet and slick and hot as their tongues fought, Stan digging his nails into Kenny's side as he ground against him. Their balls were mashed together, Kenny's free hand down and jerking over Stan's length, thumbing his slit expertly.

"Fuck, Kenny," Stan panted, licking up an arched throat, biting down on a fluttering pulse-point. Beneath him Kenny writhed, wrapping a leg around his back, grinding up harder.

"Stan," Kenny said, breathless, "Fuck me. I mean it; fuck me. Don't think about it, just do it."

Staring down into Kenny's familiar face; now changed into a wanton, desperate expression while the blonde ripped off his shirt and kicked off his pants. His hips were straining against Stan, washing any hesitation away as Stan came down onto him again, their bodies undulating while Stan kissed Kenny again, tasting him deeply. No, he didn't want to think.

"I'm going to," he husked into Kenny's ear, "I'm going to fuck you." He looked around as he stripped, eyes falling on Shelley's hand lotion sitting by the couch. He lunged for it, returning to Kenny, kissing him again with dizzying heat before slicking his fingers. With his other hand he slowly jacked Kenny, pleased with the gasps coming from the bruised mouth. Kenny was looking at him with dilated eyes swimming in black, pupils so large. He moved his hands over himself, pinching his nipples, pushing his fingers through his hair. Stan thought he might explode. Kenny was displaying himself for him, moving, moaning, and biting his lips.

"Stan," he whispered brokenly, voice careening up into a keening moan as Stan reached under him to stick a slick finger in. With little preamble he began to move his body up and down, taking Stan's finger in deeper. "More, I can take more."

He obliged, one hand on Kenny's stomach to keep him steady as the blonde thrashed, spreading his long legs wide for Stan. His dick was aching, weeping pre-cum all over the couch cushions as he finger-fucked the blonde, stretching hurriedly, struggling to be gentle as Kenny urged him on in a low, thick voice.

"Stan, I want your cock. Now, fuck me," he begged, almost delirious at this point, hungry for Stan's cock, missing his tongue, his teeth. "Stan."

"I'm here," he promised, slicking his dick liberally with lotion. "Spread for me, Kenny." The blonde curved his body, offering himself up to Stan, arms twisting above his head, blonde hair streaking his face, eyes so deep and dark.

"Fuck me," he whispered.

Stan closed his eyes, lining up to Kenny and shoving in, clenching his teeth around a yell as Kenny's heat clutched at him, drawing him in and pushing him out, crushing him and pulling at him all at once. He kept thrusting, breaking into Kenny's body, breath ragged, Kenny's sharp moans and breathy cries driving him insane. Hands grasped at him, skittered over his shoulders, down his chest, twisted his nipples, scraped at his abs. Drawing out, he opened his eyes and met Kenny's gaze before plunging back in, hips jerking sharply, spearing deep into the other boy. Kenny cried out, voice cracking. Stan pulled out and shoved in again, aiming for the same spot. Kenny's teeth sunk painfully into his own knuckles, stifling a cry, sweat beading on his brow.

Concentrating, Kenny lifted himself and begun to move, meeting Stan's increasingly vicious thrusts, throwing himself with abandon into the cruel rhythm, back burning, hips already aching, electric white sparks racing over his entire body. He lost himself in the carnality of being fucked, shoving himself down onto Stan's cock with desperation born from the wet, aching pleasure overtaking him. His erection slapped against his stomach and he was just reaching for it when Stan's hand closed over it, jerking it smoothly, quickly, in sync with his thrusts.

Their bodies met with a loud slap of flesh on flesh, Stan stopping to twist his hips and grind into Kenny at a tortuous angle while the other boy panted and moaned helplessly.

"Stan," he whispered, barely able to speak as his body was forced back and forth by Stan's cock burning in and out of him, ruling him.

His back was streaked with sweat as Stan increased his speed, pistoning in and out of Kenny, fucking him into the couch, fucking him out of consciousness. He fisted his cock faster, hips moving with a lusty power that sent waves of intense sensation through him.

Stan yelled, fingers moving from Kenny's cock to dig deeply into his sides, pulling him, jerking him into his hips. He fucked him deeper, harder, faster, blinding heat crushing them both as Stan came, still shoving his cock deep, stabbing Kenny so that stars exploded behind the blonde's eyes as his orgasm swept over him.

Sliding out carefully, Stan hung over Kenny, chest heaving as below Kenny panted, fingers skating over his wilting erection pulling out lingering sensations as he came down. His body glistened, every muscle still standing out starkly. Eyes moved slowly over Stan's body in a similar state, taking in the fact that Stan had a fucking gorgeous body. A gorgeous body that just fucked the life out of him. A slow Cheshire grin crept slowly across is face. Stan took notice and shook his head.

"What the fuck just happened?" He fell back, watching as Kenny struggled up into a limp sitting position.

"You just fucked me good and hard, Mainstream Stanley-kins." Kenny shook his hair out, still breathing hard. Then he laughed. "I think our dude-junk likes each other."

Rolling his eyes, Stan let himself fall over onto Kenny's shoulder. "You're such a douchebag."

After a moment of companionable silence, Kenny poked Stan's shoulder. "So, that was not your first time. What the hell?""

Stan grinned. "Well, Kenny, maybe I'm not so white bread mainstream as you think."

Eyes widening in surprise, Kenny uttered a bark of laughter. "Why, Stanley!"

...

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I enjoyed writing it. : )Please let me know what you think!

-Villain


End file.
